extra sugar, extra salts [open]

[yardbird]

CHARACTERS: Murphy Pendleton and You!
LOCATION: Kitchens.
SUMMARY: In Which February Becomes the Month Murphy Feeds Post-Apocalyptic Kids Food. Or anyone else who is hopeless in cooking, really.
NOTES: Feel free to assume this takes place whenever during the month!

---

The scent of herbs and spices waft from the corridors, leading into the kitchen. Murphy himself is surprised with the quality of the foods he finds here, allowing a variety of dishes he frequently indulges in when he's feeling up to it. It's not like the cooks of Ryall State Prison had a long and illustrious menu for the inmates there, and if it's one thing about his freedom that Murphy swore never to take for granted again, it's the chance to cook his own damn food.

Hell, even during his brief freedom in his own world, he hadn't been able to settle in long enough to find a decent kitchen or ingredients. Not like this place. That old life seems so long gone now, he can hardly remember what it was even like anymore. Every now and then, the ship reminds him.

So he loses himself, keeping his hands busy. Sometimes, that means cooking larger meals for more people other than himself or his wife, or whoever is left in his small circle of friends here.

Whether it's stir fry, sauté vegetables, gumbo, or even simple pancakes for breakfast... Chances are, anyone with a hungry belly wandering the halls would notice, and hardly be able to ignore.

Comments

[consequence]

Hayley hadn't picked up on the mentions earlier, she didn't let them add up to anything more than a father missing his child and now it hits her what it all means.

"Everyone deals with loss in their own way. Sometimes two people can't find comfort in shared methods. I'm sure she doesn't fault you for it."

[yardbird]

"We... both said and did some pretty shitty things back then. Don't know what she's doin' with it now, but I've learned to live with that."

For years he had lived in a cell going back and forth with it all. Who was to blame and who wasn't. At the time, Carol really did fault Murphy. Told him that what happened to their son was his fault, that he wasn't a good enough father to have been there when Charlie needed him most. For years, he believed her.

Spend enough time with nothing but silence and your thoughts, you either come to terms with some things or you let it eat you alive.

Suppose this is what feel-good assholes would call personal growth or some shit.

[consequence]

"I'm sure she's found her way through it, even the things you said."

The tone in the room got a bit dark, but she doesn't really mind it. She doesn't make any offhanded remarks trying to clear the air and instead just takes another sip of her drink.

"Women tend to be pretty forgiving," she states with a smile.

[yardbird]

"Some are more than others, I'm sure," he agrees nevertheless. After all is said and done, he knows that he's forgiven her. Forgiving himself... That's a different story, and a much more treacherous one.

But still, there was Anne. His wife now. Her forgiveness had meant the world to him, when he needed those words more than any other. It wasn't Carol's, but it was enough.

An electric jolt seems to snap his brain out of a daze. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to... get all personal like that. Guess it's been awhile..."

[consequence]

Hayley waves it off, "It's fine. We both opened those doors. It's actually sort of nice to just talk about it and not have the other person nod numbly."

Picking up her fork, she cuts off another wedge of the stack, "Plus, you fed me. I'm not going to get upset over a little conversation."

[yardbird]

"Well, I appreciate the company."

It might be another reason why he's picked up on such a habit of stress cooking. Not only is it a therapeutic distraction, he also has excuses to feed people and talk to them.

Totally not creepy at all or anything. After spending so long in prison with convicts of all kinds, the Tranquility crowd is a strangely welcome one.

"Guess it's been too long. Not really that many parents in this place to relate to."

[consequence]

"You're only the second one that I've run across. Jax Teller - he's the other one," she replies - just in case there is a familiar name to be shared.

[yardbird]

The name does ring a bell. Murphy knows a lot of faces, though the names he gets a little mixed up on.

"The guy who helped arrange that meeting. Right." He pauses. "Guess that's enough to start ourselves up a club, huh?"

Saddest club of sad parents. Great idea, Murphy.

[consequence]

Hayley shakes her head, "I think there's enough small factions on board that adding another one that just reminds each other about things back home -- probably not the best choice."

She pauses.

"It's a nice thought, though."